and there is just something about daisy chains, and dandelions, and the way her hair moves, and the freedom that nowadays ends in a full-stop because that's what we are, free full-stop. there is just something about the way i love her, and the way that she loves me.
we breathe life into brown paper and produce butterflies, and we fashion our own postsecrets out of magazines and tiny bows and cut up newspaper letters. we cry a little but we refuse to go to sleep sad. we make starry-eyed wishes into fountains and on crossed fingers, that the cracks will mend themselves in a way that makes then easy to step around, even though we are taking leap after leap in the dark.
i hide little notes around her room and in between pages of her books, and i slip something into her bag that reads, I have fallen for you, star girl.
the things that were hard are still hard, and the things that should have been easy are getting easier. sometimes i still turn and turn in a circle with tears streaming down my face as i am locked in some internal conflict of Running Away Or Staying And Fighting. but now she is holding my hand, and although i am still caught in this disordered undertow, i can feel her tugging me in the right direction.
mark this day. i am choosing to Stay And Fight.